


General Hux: In The Stars

by skysonfire



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Beta Wanted, Blaster - Freeform, Domhnall Gleeson - Freeform, F/M, Kintana, Outer Rim, Sex, Smut with a Story, Star - Freeform, Star Killer Base, Stormtrooper, The First Order, star wars one shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It has been a month since Hux banished Kintana from his quarters. On a cold evening, he requests her escort away from Starkiller command center and out into the wilderness.</p><p>Kintana, angry and confused by their last encounter, is intent on showing Hux a piece of her mind, but the mood between the two shifts drastically, and control is lost onbother sides, or so it seems.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Names and Numbers

His eyes are are like mined stones -- icy and hard and startling. There's a fire in the way he doubles his take when she removes her helmet, and she knows that she shouldn't, but she challenges his look -- smelting it into something even finer, smoother, and fuller.

When he calls for private audience, her heart surges with trepidation, but she remains strong and refined. "Calm, pulse," she whispers to herself as she rounds the corner, her hand fingering the blaster strapped to her thigh.

He is waiting - ironed, starched and resplendent in his finest uniform, his hat carefully perched upon his strawberry hair, and his coat brushing against the flawless patent of his black leather boots. His belt catches the overhead corridor light and she realizes that she is gawking.

"Oh, no," she thinks.

She stops before him and grinds her teeth, but he extends his hand and ushers her inside his quarters.

Something sweet and clean hangs in the air. She looks about and considers why she is there. It could have been for anything, but her heart knows. She is excited and scared and hurting and torrid. She is everything she knows he wants, and she hopes he forces her to feel. She wants to know something other than war and nothing.

"What do the other Stormtroopers call you?" He queries, removing his hat and rounding it in his hands.

She knows that she shouldn't be surprised by his question. If she tells him, will he be angry? Does it reassure him that her individuality remains, or does it disappoint? She is one of his many tools of war, and why would a tool need a name? What in the worlds would he do with her if she had a name? She doesn't even recall how it became hers.

"Kintana, my general," she decides to admit, all the while watching his lean fingers skimming his hat.

His expression softens at the sound of her voice, and he places the hat on a glass table next to the door.

"That's a language spoken only in the Outer Rim." He pauses and reaches his hand toward her face -- his fingers resting at her neck - his thumb brushing against her lips. 

Her breath is so short and her eyelids flutter. She can feel his hand vibrating and she knows that his heart is pounding, too, betraying his strong presence and stern, clenched jaw.

"Do you know what it means?" He asks, quietly, leaning toward her. She simply shakes her head in response and braces her hands against his chest. 

She can feel the heat of him beneath his uniform and he shrugs the coat from his shoulders, his hands reaching under her vest and shirt to touch the flesh of her waist and lower back.

There is a desire that surges under her skin and she grips the buckle of his belt, relieving it to allow her hands access under his uniform and against the tight body armor he wears.

He stumbles backward a bit and counters her advance by covering her lips with his mouth, his tongue forcing her open to draw forth a small moan, which escapes through her nose.

She can feel him smile against her mouth and he runs his hand down her thigh to grip her blaster. She pulls her head back and studies the dancing stars in his look.

"Let's ..." he trails off, holding the blaster up while dipping his free hand under her waistband to find the soft flesh of her sex.

"... put this over here, then," he finshes, touching the blaster down next to his hat.

She adjusts her stance to accommodate his touch as he spreads and circles her. She has never been wet like this and she grips at his shoulder to steady herself.

He kisses her deeply once more and pulls away, worrying his bottom lip. He turns from her and toward the couch in the center of the room, removing his belt and topcoat, and unzipping his boots.

She frees her own boots and follows. He sits on the couch and watches her. There is an expression on his face that is mellow and almost kind, and his eyes are so dark with the dilation of his pupils. No one has ever truly looked at her.

She stands before him and begins to remove her clothes. Slowly.

He leans forward to touch her after she removes her vest and shirt, but she pushes him back and he chuckles, running a considerate hand through his hair.

She sheds all but her thin panties and moves toward him, straddling his thigh and kneeling above him. She accepts his face into her hands and bites at his lip. He groans and grips her wrists. His patience is short for toying.

He swivels and puts her down on her back, his hands touching at her full breasts and wrenching her panties down around her ankles. 

He mouths at her abdomen and he sets himself between her legs. Unzipping his pants, she can see the head of his grip shining and eager. She clutches at the fabric of the couch and shifts with anxious anticipation.

He takes pause to use his fingers against her once more. The repetition of his movements draws from her short breaths. His touch feels exhilarating, like freedom.

When her pleasure builds to such a degree, she moans and he lowers his head to penetrate her with his tongue. The sensation forces her from her back and she spreads her legs far, her hands pulling through his hair.

There's a heat that begins to build in her core and her legs are no longer her own -- they shake without control. Only moments later she is awash with the pumping of her pleasure against his mouth and she brings her body back down on the couch, her hair fanning about and painting its arm. She doesn't even recognize the sounds coming from her throat, but she trusts his motions and he crawls up her torso, wicking at his mouth with the back of his hand.

She can feel the press of his wanting against her opening, but he hovers over her face. She touches his cheek with a shaking hand.

"What does it mean?" She asks, calling into question the name gifted to her long ago by a face she doesn't remember.

He clears his throat and catches the pounding of her pulse in her neck with his gaze. "Star," he responds, quietly. 

They hang in that moment and she rests her hand above his heart, squeezing her eyes shut against the energy that's changed between them. She knows what happens next.

"Get out," he says, sternly, rising to his feet.

She reaches for her blaster as she leaves, but decides instead to abandon it on the table. "Calm, pulse," she tells herself quietly, tears falling onto the glass table like shimmering bits of light. Like stars.


	2. A Turn in the Wilderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been a month since Hux banished Kintana from his quarters. On a cold evening, he requests her escort away from Starkiller command center and out into the wilderness.
> 
> Kintana, angry and confused by their last encounter, is intent on showing Hux a piece of her mind, but the mood between the two shifts drastically, and control is lost onbother sides, or so it seems.

A thin sheen of perspiration deflects her hand when she assaults the smooth, flawless skin of his cheek.

"Bastard," she spits, the moisture of her eyes quivering, her breath furiously heaving in her chest.

He shifts his head to the side in an easy way and brings his lean fingers to his face to massage the skin. Rolling his jaw, he sets his eyes on her and a cold sensation drenches her like a hard rain.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks, quietly. 

"Why did you bring me here?" She questions, squinting as she watches him in the dying light of the day.

It's cold, and they are a few clicks out from the bases' command center. She is one of a small squad of Troopers that sometimes escort him out into the wilderness. The others don't seem to pay it much mind, but she's been known to watch him, ponderous and solitary — his carefully-drawn breath misting in the wintry haze. She supposed it helped to cleanse his mind, and there was something about that, which felt cleansing to her, too.

Today, it was just he and she. It had been at least one month's time since their encounter in his quarters, and she had mustered a bountiful resentment toward his baiting and affection, for whatever it was worth. 

She understood that fighting against him would put her in the heat, but she didn't care. At night, she lays awake hearing his voice in her head; feeling the warmth of his mouth on her lips, and the touch of his hands on her skin. He had permeated her in a fundamental way, and she was reignited. She was restless and reckless, and she welcomed whatever additional distraction he would provide, even if it proved destructive.

"You think I care what you do to me?" She asks, confrontationally. 

His only reaction is in the clenching of his jaw.

She searches his face for something, but nothing comes, and his eyes glow at her, stoic and fresh.

"Why are we here?" She tries, her voice lowered, her hand falling from the blaster at her waist.

He looks down at his feet before sucking on his teeth and advancing toward her. He grabs her helmet from her hand and tosses it into the snow.

"Every moment," he starts, but he stops himself, furrows his brow with a degree of frustration, and clears his throat.

She doesn't know how to react to him, but it’s moot because he grips her surprisingly hard behind the neck and crushes his mouth against her. 

The feeling that he forces overtakes her once more, and she is bursting with his advance. She rolls her tongue against him and touches at his face with the tips of her fingers. He is so soft, but hard like a vicious jewel. He sparkles so perfectly out here in the wild.

As his fingers knead into her hair, there's an angry, frustrated heat that grows within her. She decides that she is going to make him lie awake at night, too, if that's what is to be. Eye for an eye.

She drops to her knees and opens his belt. She looks up to him before she begins and watches his throat swallow hard, his breath coming in short shots in the cold air.

She unwraps his swollen length and allows the evening's icy touch to molest him for a moment. He shifts uncomfortably before she sheaths him slowly with her mouth, and he exhales hard at her warm, wet embrace.

He fondles her hair and she begins to rock her head, sucking intently at the thick pulsing in her mouth. When she hears him moan quietly, she pumps him even harder, her hand wrapped about his base and her tongue flicking about the sensitivity of his head. She can feel him beginning to vibrate, and she takes him as far into her throat as she can. He responds by breathing out and indecipherable plea. 

Despite the cold, she can feel a flush building in her face. He is rocking his hips against her now, thrusting into her mouth with a ferocity that makes her head buzz. She moans in her throat and he releases violently onto her tongue. She laps him up, but he surprises her when he drops to his knees before her and takes her face in his hands. He doesn't notice, but he his trembling.

Daylight sets fully into the pines and the glow of the night sky touch them gently.

He leans in and his full lips kiss her in a way they never have. He envelopes her like a warm comfort and in those seconds, she is unafraid. She is brave.

"Every moment?" She asks, but he shakes his head.

"We are a force, Kintana. You and I."

He extends to her his hand.


End file.
